Who Are the Killers?
by KomatheSoap
Summary: After a meeting gone bad, the nations awake in an odd building in an unknown location with strange bracelets. The bracelets end up being "killing devices" used secretly by six nations to kill the rest one at a time. The only way for the innocent rest to survive? Vote-and thus kill-the killers before it's too late. GerIta, UsUk, Spamano, SuFin, RusChu, PrusHun, DenNor.


"Alright," America started, standing up in his chair with a gesture that demanded attention. "This year's annual meeting of the countries shall now commence!" He slapped his hands against the table rather loudly.

"No need for the dramatics America. Really, you have no taste." England said, giving the country a side-eye that could turn people to stone. The brunette didn't notice though.

All of the countries were currently sitting in a half circle around a table inside of a large building in the U.S.A. (It was his turn to host.) The walls of the room were bright blue, and the open windows near the front of the room made it all that much brighter. The side of the room were lined with cheap white plastic tables full of things like bags of chips and liters of soda and the like. To the south of room were two white doors that led to a hallway. In said hallway were two bathrooms, a water fountain, and two sets of double doors that went to the outside world. For security reasons the meeting was being held in a very low-key looking area instead of somewhere big like in the days of old.

"Now, onto the topics we have to discuss!" America called with a smile as he pulled a notebook out from on top of his seat and opened to the first page. "Ah yes, the number of homeless people." He closed the book and looked out into the sea of nations. "How do we stop it?"

"Maybe if you weren't such an idiot." Romano muttered to himself, feet propped on top of the wooden table, his arms crossed on his chest.

"Be nice, Lovi." Antonio reminded him with his-usually-ever present smile.

"If you've got nothing helpful to say, shut up." Switzerland yelled a bit angrily.

"Don't yell, Big Brother." Liechtenstein said, tugging on the blonde countries' sleeve. "Besides, I think they're entertaining."

"Ah. Oh…right." The older boy said, slightly blushing, as he crossed his arms.

"Switzerland, any ideas?" America called from the front of the room. "Because I really have absolutely no idea what to do about this."

"Stop spending so much money on your military, maybe?" England offered.

"No way man!" America sounded almost offended as he shouted. "I need all of that incase!"

"In case of what, exactly? Invaders from Canada?"

"Hey! He gave me Justin Bieber I have no idea what else Mattie may have to use against me!"

"I-I won't do anything of the sort, Alfred." The Canadian said happily from his seat next to Italy as he clutched his bear.

"Aah!" Italy squealed upon seeing the man materialize from the apparent thin air. He jumped out of his chair. "Germany look! He's a ghost!" The short man reached for Germany and grabbed his sleeve. "Help me Germany!" The blonde only rubbed his eyes as he quietly seethed.

"I'm just saying, I don't trust you, bro." America said again, over Italy's screaming for Germany's help.

"Well, I don't see why not-" The Canadian started, unnoticed that he was forgotten.

"Well, if I could just borrow some more money from-" Greece began slowly.

"Nein!" Germany yelled at him from half-way across the table, as he finished consoling the Italian.

"This would never happen to me if I was still a country!" Prussia announced triumphantly from Germany's left.

"Nein!" Germany turned his head to yell at the older man. "You are not a country anymore! You shouldn't even be at this meeting! Go home!"

"I'm just saying." The albino smirked.

"And we're not even mentioning the money you _still _owe me." China added.

"Nope! Okay, any ideas at all? From anybody?" Try as he might, the entire room was full of yelling nations.

"Hey everybody listen to me!" It was a yell that-while it did sound childish-was rather loud. All heads turned to the little boy in a sailor uniform standing on top of the table next to England.

"Sealand? What in the blazes are y-" Britain began, surprise written on his face.

"Hey guys look what I made!" The boy gestured to a clear tin of cookies below him. "I made enough for everybody and me and my friends worked reaaaaaalllly hard to make them all, okay? So you'd all better grab one!" He announced as he opened the tin and walked-on top of the table mind you-giving one to every nation. "But we have to eat all of them together, okay?" As soon as he was done, Peter Kirkland hurried back to his seat next England with his own cookie. "Everybody ready?" He asked, excited.

"No way am I going to eat your crap." Britain said, scrutinizing his baked good.

"B-But Britain." The little wanna-be-nation whined looking up at the blonde with big tearful eyes. "I made one for you." Britain made a "gack" noise, before gulping and biting it. Even the cold-hearted countries found themselves eating Sealand's cookies.

And then, after only a few moments, they all found themselves asleep in their chairs. Well, all except for seven of them. Six-to be precise-and one wanna-be-nation took every country out of the place, loaded them into trucks, and drove away.


End file.
